


Drive It Off

by painty



Series: Across Time and Space [5]
Category: Diary of a Wimpy Kid, The X-Files
Genre: Across Time and Space (ATAS), Anger, Angsttttttt man, Depression, Fox Mulder Torture, Gen, Grief, Guilt, Just read it's sad okay, Loneliness, Sadness, Suicide Attempt, Thoughts of Suicide, like angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 01:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12244761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painty/pseuds/painty
Summary: Mulder goes out for a late-night drive to forget his problems. It turns into something much more. Mid-shot to Across Time and Space (4).





	Drive It Off

Mulder tries to drive off his problems. It turns into something much more.  
Kind of a vent on my own loneliness/guilt I guess.

tw ;; suicide attempt, again. really dark thoughts.

Mulder's heart was so filled with loneliness that night that he found himself immediately in his car on the dark, carless roads.

Shadows swallowed everything whole. The moon was dimmed by the clouds covering it, hardly any light illuminating down on the Washington street Mulder was on. His head was slightly hung as he drove, green eyes dark and his insides twisting with guilt. His hands were shaking. Every time the FBI Agent tried to stop them they did it more.

Mulder felt the tears pricking the edges of his eyes. He attempted to blink them away but to no avail, they continued returning. Darkness stormed inside his mind and showered every once positive light with a destructive, maddening and negative force, blowing everything he'd once loved farther and farther away. He couldn't catch up. Every time Mulder took a step he took five steps backwards, and eventually was lost in the midst of a dark sea.

Alone. Forever alone. The words affected the brown-haired male very much. After Samantha had been abducted, Mulder had always been alone. No one had ever given a shit about him, not really. Emotionally neglected by both of his parents. Mentally abused by his mother. Physically abused by his father. Hell, he'd tried to kill himself two months after and had gotten into more trouble just for going missing for those long hours.

Mulder remembered the way the belt felt. How hard it snapped his skin, how it sounded when it whiplashed into the air and came back down on his body. He remembered crying. His father would abuse him more if he screamed, so he learned to shut up eventually. His tears would stain his cheeks and wrinkle his shirt. The blood would run down his chest and sides and all he could remember was pain. Being hurt by someone you loved, and thought loved you, was the worst thing that could ever happen to a child. And Mulder had been so sensitive. So fragile after losing Samantha.

He had been shattered.

Mulder's heart had never fully healed. He learned to mask his emotions. He learned to keep secrets. He learned to tell lies, to keep everything inside until he inevitably broke down. Alone. Always alone. The loneliness and grief and anger consumed his mind and heart and he was changed. Turned into a completely new person. Stronger now, but not trusting of anyone. Mulder was always paranoid. Nightmares occurred on a daily basis, returning back to fire or even to Samantha. Usually he didn't scream, just because it had become so embedded in his mind not to. However, Mulder couldn't always control it. Not when it was to a certain degree of horrible.

He often saw his father's eyes. Once wise, then turned into a monster. Mulder didn't know what had changed him so drastically. Once a lover, then an abuser. Even Samantha's abduction didn't validate that, not for Mulder.

But he'd still grieved when his father had been murdered by Alex Krycek. All he'd wanted to do was talk. But instead, Bill Mulder had been killed, just in the bathroom on the other side of the house. Made to look like a suicide, though Mulder screamed homicide and all fingers pointed to him. Only Scully had been there to help. Even if she'd shot him in the shoulder to refrain from him murdering Krycek when he'd been right at his fingertips.

Mulder could also distinctly remember his father's substance abuse. Alcohol and cigarettes, littered all over the house, windows broken and doors bashed in from where he'd stuck his foot or hand through. Mulder's heart lurched. He was becoming his father, right? The alcohol. Punching walls or glass. Fucking cigarettes, which he'd picked up on recently. Morleys. Shit. He was becoming his father.

That thought scared him badly. Mulder couldn't even imagine being the most terrifying man on earth. But he was. He'd hurt more people than he could even count. Phoebe. Diana. Skinner. Scully. Rodrick.

FUCK. Rodrick. He'd hurt Rodrick so badly that Mulder had hurt himself. Breaking up with him in that way had been so hard. So horrible. But he'd done it anyway. Like the selfish prick he was. He'd left the love of his life all for Diana, who'd left soon after anyway.

And then Diana had continued to manipulate him. The sex was horrible. Mulder felt so dirty afterwards, even a shower didn't help. He longed for the presence of Rodrick. He missed the casual talks and flirts, even the deeper conversations. He missed sleeping in a bed with Rodrick, being there beside him and having someone to finally be able to truly love. He missed everything about his... former lover.

But Mulder had to fuck it up. He fucked everything up. He couldn't even recall the last time something went to shit because of someone else. Mulder had always tried to help others, to pick up the pieces for them and put them back together. But no one had ever tried for him. Then again he wouldn't let them. He never told anyone his past. Maybe Scully, but she didn't know much of anything apart from his father's abuse and Samantha's disappearance.

Phoebe had wanted.. hell, Mulder didn't even know. Diana had wanted dominance over someone. And he and Scully had never been truly, officially together, even though he knew those feelings had once been there. Rodrick? Rodrick was different from everyone else. Rodrick didn't care who he was, he just wanted to be with Mulder because he loved him. And Mulder felt the same way about Rodrick. Though it never lasted with good relationships. Always the toxic ones, or none at all. Because again. Mulder fucked everything up.

His mind crossed back to his mother. Dear, old Teena. The mother that would never comfort Mulder when he sobbed endlessly in his room. The mother that would never bother to congratulate him for his good grades. The mother that would never even attempt to reach out to Mulder unless it was about Bill. Or Samantha.

The FBI Agent still felt grief over those things. Even when Mulder would be in the hospital, ill or violently injured, his mother would hardly show up. And if she did, it was only for a few minutes, never even really talking to him. His heart twisted at the knowledge that Mulder had never been the favored child. No matter what he did, he would always be lesser. Because Samantha had been their little girl. Full Mulder, not half Spender like the brown-haired male was. Always looked upon as the greater child.

And it hurt. It hurt so badly that Mulder had devoted his whole life to finding Samantha just to make his parents proud. 

And it had ended with both dying. His father getting murdered. His mother committing suicide, just like Mulder would undoubtedly do some day.

Oh. Teena's suicide. That hurt his heart more than Mulder would ever be able to admit. He'd missed her call. He'd been busy with other things. Then again he just hadn't wanted to talk to her whatsoever. He hadn't thought it was important.

It was important. 

Information about Samantha could've been shared. Mulder could've talked to his mother before she took her life. Hell, he could've possibly talked her out of it.

But no. Mulder had to be a selfish prick again. He had to only think for himself. He had to have that hate and hurt in his heart and refuse to take the call out of pettiness. And what? Not being the more liked kid? Pathetic.

Mulder didn't realize he was speeding up. His heart race was beating faster every second, thinking those awful thoughts over and over and over again. He'd begun to let the tears fall, his breaths coming out in gasps as he felt he was beginning to hyperventilate. Mulder simply couldn't catch his breath. His lungs felt small, collapsed. He felt like he was being beaten to death by his father. Sobs escaped his mouth and he closed his eyes and stepped harder on the gas.

When he opened his eyes, he was heading straight for a building. He didn't know what it was. He didn't know if anyone was in there. All he knew was that he couldn't take this anymore and that he needed to die. It was time to go. It was over, he had no reason to live.

FUCK.

Mulder slammed on the breaks, his head almost colliding with the steering wheel as he narrowly swerved away from the side of the building. Luckily no one was on this road, since it was pretty far out of town. Shit, Mulder hardly knew where he was, he'd been so deep in thought.

He continued to drive numbly until he figured out where the fuck he was and made his way back home. Mulder's heart felt like it was beating out of his chest and the tears continued to fall but he could actually breathe now. The FBI Agent's hands were shaking so badly he forced himself to pull over on the side of the road.

Mulder put the car in park and drew his knees to his chest, letting out a few shaky breaths as another sob came out of his jaws. Fuck he thought he'd gone past this. He was fine, all it had been was... was a little bit of dark thoughts. Nothing much. Just the usual. But he felt so traumatized by what he did he thought about slamming his head through a window and ending it now.

But something held Mulder back. He wasn't sure what. All he knew was that right now he was shaking so badly he had to crawl into the backseat and lay down. Tears streamed down his face and inevitably he curled into a ball and buried his face into the seat, letting the cries echo into the car as he thought about how many people he could've killed if he actually went through with that.

Mulder cried for a long time. It wouldn't stop. He wasn't aware he'd been hurting this much but... clearly he had. And that pain wasn't going to stop, no matter how much he sobbed. Unfortunately.

The mist in the sky eventually began to lift and Mulder could actually see the stars in the sky. He gazed at them for a long time, his shaking and crying ceasing as he grew calmer as the night went on. Mulder didn't really feel good enough to drive so he let his head rest on the seat, his green eyes staring ahead for a while until he was able to close them.

Mulder felt a brief fuzz as his mind began to go blank. Darkness was consuming everything and that sleep was almost sinking in. Then Mulder let out one last heavy sigh before he was long gone into a night of dreamless peace.


End file.
